Past and Present
by Random.Is.Best
Summary: Bast has decided to reunite Kvothe with a few people from his past. Needless to say, Kvothe is shocked by his choice. Note: I have only read Name of the Wind and in the process of reading Wise Man's Fear, so these plotlines may be different from the book.
1. Bombshell

Note: I don't own the Kingkiller Chronicles or any of the characters.

Kvothe paused in the middle of wiping the counter of the Waystone Inn. Something in the air was off, and the guilty look on Bast's face didn't help. He narrowed his green eyes and, leaving his rag on the counter, walked over to where his student was furiously trying to gather mugs and plates after the lunch rush. "What did you do?"

"I—um—nothing, Reshi. Why would you—"

The innkeeper help up a hand, and Bast snapped his mouth shut. "I can tell something is wrong because you are quiet. You're hardly ever quiet unless you're thinking about something or you have done something that you know is going to make me very angry." He took the tray of dishware into his own hands and rested it on one hip so Bast didn't have an excuse to run off to the kitchen to wash dishes.

"I—"

"I'm not in the mood to play guessing games, Bast," Kvothe muttered, rubbing his temples with his middle and ring fingers. "It's been a long day, and I just want to know so I can get on with work. You know the usual crowd will be trailing in any moment demanding alcohol and apple pie."

"A talent in exchange for the right to silence?" Bast knew he had made the absolute wrong decision when Kvothe's eyes shifted into a death glare, turning dark green in color and if his red hair could have changed, turning it to licks of flame to engulf him. "I'm sorry, Reshi."

"You'd better be. Tell me what you did."

"I may have…invited some people."

Kvothe felt his stomach knot in at least five places. Sure, he had become the innkeeper type, always ready to help, but this statement made him nervous. The words "invited some people" were enough to be telling but not enough to keep them from being vague. "What _people_ did you invite, Bast? Please don't tell me you've found some way to make my life a living hell."

"Just…maybe you should…"

"I am not waiting until they get here to find out who they are. Names or there will be repercussions for your insolence."

Bast fell silent for a moment, his ebony hair falling into his bright blue eyes as he stalled for time and knowing that his teacher's strong gaze was boring a hole through him. "They may be…a pair of people you know…very well…and that you…haven't seen for a long time…"

"And who is that? I want names, not descriptions."

"Wilem and Simmon…"

Kvothe dropped the tray of dishes. The man that was always so calm, cool, and collected had rarely broken even but a tiny tumbler in his entire span of being an innkeeper. And now he had just lost a full tray. "Damn," he snapped to himself and knelt down to pick up the shattered pieces. Bast crouched down as well, but Kvothe only pushed him away. "I really don't want to speak to you right now."

"But Reshi! They're your friends! I knew them from your descriptions and had to invite them! Don't be mad..."

"I haven't seen them since the University. Do you know how awkward it is going to be for me? I'm sure they've changed, just as I have."

"But you're Edema Ruh. And you're good with words. So you shouldn't feel awkward around old friends…" Bast reasoned with a slight whine in his voice as he scuffed his foot along the ground.

Kvothe put a hand to Bast's lips, preventing him from speaking any further. An unusual but increasing sensation ran through him at the feeling of Bast's breath on his fingers. He shook off the feeling and tried to ignore how soft his lips were. "I know very well that I am Edema Ruh, as I know that I am good with words. It comes from being a Ruh and studying naming, which you should know. That doesn't change the fact that I haven't seen them in years and that the part of me that they know is dead."

"That's not—"

Bast was cut off from his muffled protest by a pair of loud voices and footsteps coming from the porch. Kvothe paled, making his red hair and green eyes stand out even more. The door swung open, and Kvothe could see the corner of a cloak before the door even opened fully.


	2. Resurrection of a Dead Self

_**I have to apologize for the lack of updates to this story, guys. I've been in a writing rut, but I'm working to get out of it and make this story happen! Your comments and subscriptions help! Keep them coming! **_

Kvothe steeled himself and forced a smile as his old friends tumbled into the inn, stamping their feet and shaking the rain out of their hair to the freshly cleaned counter and tables. He winced as the rain sunk into the wood; he knew that would leave a stain on his pristine inn. He muttered a soft apology before busying himself with mugs and drinks behind the bar. Casting one last glare that made Bast wither, he turned to his old school mates.

"What's with the silence, Kvothe! I've never known you to be the silent type!" Sim exploded, clapping a hand down hard on the red head's shoulder and nearly making him upset the drinks he was carrying to a table. "Isn't a hello or something in order?"

"Yes, I suppose it would be. Hello, Sim, Wil. How are you?"

Sim let out a loud, jovial laugh. "Well, haven't you changed! You're all…stoic…and…I don't know, it's just weird."

Kvothe issued him a quick smile and shook the hair from his eyes to give Sim a proper eyebrow raise. "I believe most people call it maturing, Simmon."

It was now Wilem's turn to laugh as Sim's expression darkened, crossing his arms in mock indignation. "I don't think he's changed a bit. Still that biting wit of his."

"In some ways, I have. In some ways, I haven't. Just depends on how you look at it, I suppose," Kvothe wrote off, putting an end to the discussion as he sat them down and slid their mugs towards them, which both of them snatched gratefully. "So, how has life been? It's been awhile."

"I'm more interested in your life," Sim interrupted, a sly smile creeping over his face. "The great Kvothe has to have some stories. How's that lady friend of yours?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Kvothe's face. "She's not my lady friend. She wasn't then and isn't now."

"Hey, Kvothe," Sim continued after taking a long drink from his mug, switching gears as if he had been thinking of the next question while Kvothe was still answering the previous. "When did you get so…old? Running an inn, no lady friend…"

Kvothe waved a hand at Bast, who looked like he was kindling the fires of an outburst. He cast him an unseen smile with a hint of concern. Something had been wrong with him lately, and he made a mental note to uncover the truth of it soon. "I wanted the serenity. The quiet. Some peace."

"I can see that."

When a muffled thump sounded from under the table, Kvothe allowed a quiet laugh and arched his eyebrow. "You never change, do you, Sim?"

"I can pride myself in being able to agree with that."

"Is that such a good thing?" Wil asked, casting a sideways glance at their friend.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I believe he's insulting you," the red head offered.

"Shut up, Kvothe! No one asked you!" The two laughed while Sim crossed his arms and slumped in his chair. Kvothe caught Bast's eye and shared a small smile with him. Bast seemed to approve of his laughter. "If I would have known I'd just be insulted, maybe I wouldn't have come."

"Don't lie to yourself, Simmon. Yes you would. You were so excited to come see Kvothe. So much so, I thought maybe you two had a small thing or two going on behind my back," Wil negated, nudging him with a smile.

Simmon's face burned an even brighter red, and he shook his head furiously, so much so that Kvothe felt a small twinge of offense. "Tehlu, no. You shut up too, Wil."

Kvothe retreated and returned with another mug, setting it down in front of Sim and sliding a second towards Wil. "Perhaps this could ease your mind."

"You know I'd never say no to that!"

"Only too well," Kvothe mused, attempting not to lose himself in the memory of years long since passed of the three of them hitting taverns and inns during their time at the University. A small smile toyed with his lips, but he forced it away to focus on the conversation at hand. "What brought the two of you this way? I'm surprised to see that you still spend time with each other, even if we have been out of the University."

"Not everyone got to go on huge mercenary missions like you. The rest of us had to trudge through it just like everyone else always has and always will," Wil said. He cast a glance over at Bast, who met his eye for a moment before busying himself with cleaning a perfectly clean table over again. He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to Kvothe. "How did you meet?"

"It's a long story," Kvothe replied, waving his hand to push the idea out of the air. "Too long for the time we have. I tend to be…long winded in my storytelling."

Sim snorted into his drink, causing himself to cough and sputter as the liquid ran down his face and onto his shirt. "That's the truth," he managed to choke out before coughing again with a smile.

Kvothe bit his lip and couldn't attempt to hide the look of concern that etched itself into his face. "You deserved that." He turned to look out the window at the setting sun, knowing that the rush would be coming at any moment and sweep him away from any sort of conversation with his friends. He was somewhat surprised with the sinking feeling that he felt. He hadn't expected to have a good time with the memories that they brought back. It had been too long since then; he wasn't the same person. But surprisingly, he had enjoyed the conversation and he wasn't quite ready for them to leave him yet. It would be like the old him dying all over again. "Stay here for awhile. At the inn. You're friends so I won't charge you anything but good conversation during slow hours."

Sim's face split into a large, goofy grin. "I think we'll take you up on that offer."


	3. Aftermath

_**So this chapter is really, really short. I just wanted a bit of a wrap up and kind of toyed with different ideas to see if anyone else out there thinks the same way I do. Warning, there's a bit of BastxKvothe fluffiness so bear with me. Sorry if you don't ship them; Pat just makes it way to easy for me to do so! Anyways, hope you enjoy the wrap up to this story, and if people are interested in more TKC stories, let me know and I'll figure something out! I know it's still rising in popularity.**_

An entire span had passed, forcing Sim and Wil to leave the luxury of a free room and food. After they had said their goodbyes, Bast sat Kvothe down and brought him a full mug, which the red head gratefully wrapped his hands around.

"Was it as bad as you thought it would be, Reshi?" he asked, cocking his head with a gentle smile on his face as he gazed at Kvothe fondly.

"No…I'm surprised to say this, but I will miss them. I had forgotten how close we were when we were younger, and it seemed to pick up right where we had left off. I am sad to see them go. It feels…like a part of me has died all over again…almost…a feeling of being alone…"

Bast slid closer to him and moved his hair out of his eyes before resting a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and let out a soft sigh. "You always have me. I am of the Fae…so I will be around for quite some time."

Kvothe found that he couldn't make eye contact with the man before him. He had never considered himself interested in Bast, but something about the other man drew him towards him. Perhaps it was only the Fae in him, but it felt like more than that. He was one of his dearest and most trusted friends, someone who could understand him when he spoke of Felurian and all of her stories. Someone who would believe and listen with wide eyes of wonderment as he spun each fantastic story. There had always been something between them. Something to make them a little more than the friends they claimed to be. When Bast gently pressed his lips to his before standing and retreating to the back, leaving him stunned, he knew that the other man had to feel the same way.


End file.
